A Small Price to Pay
by Dominique Sotto
Summary: Background for a BH character I want to play makes for an amusing short (I think!). This choice of a PC for a Torian romance will not be everyone's cup of tea, but I have troubles with anything else. Enter Cathar Grand Dame and may I earn enough in game world to actually create this char!


A Small Price to Pay

The Jeweled Manor felt deserted without Bronas to meet her. _A pity we had to dismiss the servants_… Elvira was once again surprised at how hard it was to pry the heavy doors open. _Ah, all the wee challenges the less fortunate have to deal with._ The sooner Aalric would correct their financial misadventure, the better. _I will not stoop to using droids._ Ah, but this minor setback was worth it to accomplish the social triumph of her life. Tho think that Malar was now married into a noble House on Corusant itself! A minor House, and a younger son, but those were the details one need not mention. Besides, it seemed as near to a match of heart as it could be hoped for, and Malar was a Cathar, no matter how well off they were. Remembering her daughter's grandiose wedding, Elvira once again thought that her estate as a dowry was a small price to pay. Oh, there were whispers and there were mocking stares, but nothing that she could not parry. Humans knew nothing of the art of verbal sparring, or any sparring for that matter. _Humans, pah_!

Speaking of art… _where did this largish painting go?! And that awful but precious vase?! Why in blazes did Aalric decide to redecorate the house while I was away?_

"Aalric?" She raced up the staircase to her husband's study, hissing at the indignity of it. A maid is a necessity for _any_ civilized couple! How is a lady of quality, a mother of a bride to the House of -

Elvira stopped short at the threshold. Aalric, or his bleeding corpse, was sprawled on the floor. _Why, even more pathetic in death than he was in life. Good thing he apparently got rid of the gorgeous carpet…_ Then the thoughts of polishing the wood versus cleaning the blood stains stains fled her head. A business end of a blaster was pointed at her chest. A hooded figure holding the weapon chuckled: "Look here, more entertainment value!"

"I assure you, this town offers a wide variety of thrilling activities," Elvira smiled pleasantly. "I would be delighted to be your guide, if you would allow me. There is nothing like local expertise—"

"Are you crazy or stupid?" he barked, his blaster unwavering. "This is a part where you beg for mercy. On your knees, hag!"

"Are you always working from the same scenario? I must say, I find men of your profession fascinating!" Elvira was panicking, but the platitudes came easily to her trained tongue. She managed her best expression of sincere interest. Meanwhile the puzzle pieces started to click into places. She did not like the picture they revealed one bit.

"Tell me, my dear friend, just how long was my foolish man," she flickered a gloved hand to her husband's body, "borrowing from the Hutts?" _I am a widow. A widow. What a strange—_

"I didn't ask for details, lady. It's a side job anyways," the bounty hunter shrugged.

"Imagine that! If we are a low priority for you, your main engagement must be something quite _impressive_!" Elvira edged towards the figure and set admiring eyes on where his face would have been. All she could see was a scarred chin.

"You bet, lady! Don't mean to boast, but it's the _Great Hunt_ on Hutta. A chance to make a name, you see?"

She nodded and leaned in to purr: "I am sure you will be the success story!"

The chin moved a tiny bit following her voice. As small as it was, it was all the opening she would get. Elvira took her chance and grabbed for the blaster. Claws ripped through the lace of her gloves and some strange instincts told her to step in closer, instead of running-

_Closer, twist, jab, yowl!_

They rolled on the floor, in a flurry of blows, blood and curses. She was blinded by the indignity and the deliberately applied pain. A lowlife was hurting her. _On purpose_! There came a muffled shot, and Elvira suddenly realized that nobody was kicking her any longer. Slowly, she got up on all fours, and pulled some air into her strained lungs. _Did I really yowl? How embarrassing._ Now she was truly starting to hurt.

And to come back to her senses. She squatted by her kill to discover a young man, no older than her Malar. She sighed: war produced a fresh crop of hooligans, what with the orphans and all. _Now he is just a thing. Just a filthy thing._ _Fortunately, we must have ranked low indeed among the Hutts' priorities… _

Elvira searched the man and found a contract and confirmed her guess. The sum was insultingly low. Alarmingly, it was issued to "_whomever it may concern_". Fortunately, Malar's name was not on it. Elvira spent a few long minutes studying the second datapad.

It was an invitation from someone called Braiden to the Great Hunt and was addressed to Misericorde. Hmm, the commoner or his parents must have had smidgens of education to come up with this moniker. Elvira stared some more at the hooligan. From the state of the house, she was in a possession a name that had money attached to it in all the wrong ways. She also had a wedding ring that would buy her passage to Coruscant where she might beg Malar to shelter her. Or…

Or she will go check the cloak room to see if Aalrick in his feverish despair missed that costume she hoped to wear for a masque ball next month. It would be quite appropriate for someone called Misericorde, a future champion of the Great Hunt. Of course she would need something more impressive than a tiny blaster to go with it. _I am a lady of quality, not a street thug._ Her decision made, Elvira rose and stepped over the two dead men and chuckled. Really, she much preferred men this way.


End file.
